


When the Wolf Comes Home

by cyrusbarrone



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daryl gets a dog, Gen, minimal spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 03:18:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2836028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyrusbarrone/pseuds/cyrusbarrone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl finds a dog when out hunting. It's a sad thing, three legs and blind in one eye. Daryl likes it, nonetheless. He has stuff in common with sad things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Wolf Comes Home

It was a mutt, with three goddamn legs and one functional eye. Its fur had been white but now it was matted in thick grey, and it weren't a pretty fella. Pathetic, really, hopping about like Daryl ain't just had a bolt ready to shoot it an' eat it. Its ears were twitching and its eye looked hopeful, like the dirty redneck was something it could see a home in. Its tail swayed as it did its little hopping-walk towards Daryl. It looked the damn poster baby of trust, bright pink tongue lolling at the blood around its chops as it got to Daryl's feet and butted its head into his hand. 

"You're a mangy lil' fella, ain't ya?" Daryl muttered to the dog with a slight glare. His hand petted into the smoke grey fur on its scuffed head, and the dog looked up at him, wiggling eagerly on the ground. "How'd ya fucken lose a goddamn leg?" he questioned the dog like it would answer.

The dog only wiggled a little more, twisting as if to show that its leg weren't there for real. Gone. Daryl figured a dog like this had lost it because a fight with other mutts on streets, or the by the bastards that got pups fightin' one another for death and coin. "Ya were a lil badass, huh?" he murmurs, settling that another dog had ripped its teeth into the dogs leg and not that this dog were a fighter. The dog looks approving of his words. 

It wasn't that he were soft, because he ain't, but he couldn't leave the pup out there by itself and he was alone for a few hours anyway, could do with some company. He'd found some rope in his bag- always paid to have some rope is what the movies said- and tied it real loose around Mutt's neck, keepin' him tethered and close as they trekked on through mud sloppy forests.

When they see a walker for the first time in miles Mutt growls real quiet and widens its beady lil eye at the walker. It rocks back on its surviving leg as if going to pounce, pull out the walkers' throat with its yellow teeth. The walker fell with a bolt in the head and Mutt reared back, turning to look accusingly at Daryl as if asking 'why'd you do that' before looking away and sticking his head up in the air and pulling at the rope. 

Daryl rolled his eyes in agreement with Mutt, and walked on and pulled the bolt from soft rotten skull. "You're a stuck up lil shit too an all, ain't ya?" he commented to Mutt who sniffed a lil at the walker, before he acted all above it and tugged at the rope around his neck. "S'alrigh you kill the next not-dead bastard that gon' be comin' along, alright?" he reasoned.

Mutt turned his head like he had been listening, and his mouth lolls open all red tongue and saliva in what would be a pretty grim smile. Daryl nods and scruffed his fingers over the dog's head, scratching at his ears real quick. Mutt gave what looked to be a nod and Daryl pulled back the rope and went back to gripping the handle of his knife, hard and cool against his palm.

It was nice having the pup with him, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. Mutt did these awkward little hops as Daryl checked the snares for anything, any food were good recently because no-one could afford to be fussy about what they were chomping on. Mutt tries to nip at the fluffed up tail of one of the squirrels when Daryl untied it, little bastard catching his fingers with nippy teeth. "Fuck off ya great loon," he admonished the dog, hitting his nose away gently and swinging the squirrel over his shoulder on the other bit of rope.

Mutt looked at him with his mouth slightly open in a grimace, and Daryl took it as an apology for trying to nick the dinner before he'd got a taste in. The dog were gonna have to learn some basic damn manners if he was gonna come back to camp- where people got twitchy about food, and wouldn't be friendly if Mutt were to nick it. "Squirrel tail's shit anyway," informed Daryl, following Mutt on the one way walk and shooting a bolt into the head of a stray walker with a hanging jaw. "All fur an’ bone, ya dummy."

Mutt looked as insulted as a dog could before continuing his trot ahead, leading by twitching nose and wagging tail. Daryl had forgotten what having a pup were like, had only had one for about a week before his dad told it to fuck off and put it right back to the middle of goddamn nowhere. It had been a mutt too, Doberman and about two other breeds that made it funny looking and have stunted little legs. He'd been twelve when he'd found the dog, coming back with alcohol from the local boozer for his dad, and the pitiful fuck had whined and followed him all the way home just a few foot behind. He had let the dog in, and rushed it into his bedroom because if his dad saw he'd flip and tell the poor mutt to fuck off because Daryl weren't allowed pets- animals were for eating. His dad didn't know for a week, Merle and Ma had found out- heard the whinnying and Daryl talkin' away to nobody. They'd thought he were a fucken nutcase, ya see? Daryl had thought that sun shone from that dog's ass. Only one day he'd come home from school and the pup were gone like his dad, and he didn't cry even though he really wanted to. 

Daryl blinked a little bit, scolding himself for getting unfocussed when undead bastards could be anywhere. He knew they were getting closer to camp, though, he'd been walkin' a real long time and had about six squirrels slung up over his shoulder and Mutt were hopping just a lil more like this were becomin' an effort.

"You can have some'a my squirrel," Daryl offered the dog, slipping back to his twelve year old self where he interacted better with animals than people. "When we get back to camp- they cook it up real good somehow, but I guess you ain't gon' care 'bout that?" Mutt looked up at him, black eye glossy. "Yeah, I know, stop talkin' about goddamn food." Mutt seemed to nod.

When he walked into camp – that bit just outside’a the prison walls- most people sat round the fire, like it was actually cold out here. Daryl chucked the line of squirrels towards whoever sat nearest the fire, suddenly going quiet. Mutt was doing the same, sinking back and hiding all up behind Daryl's legs like he was tryna be a hide n seek champ. 

"Aw!" cooed Beth, and hopped up from the ground. "Daryl's got a puppy!" she sounded excited in the way only she could as she walked over and crouched down to stroke Mutt who only bared his teeth and made a low snarling.

Daryl sent Mutt a glare, and tapped his hand over the wet nose- ain't no way to treat a lady, was what he was saying, but didn't wanna sound crazy speaking to the loner dog.

Mutt gave him a slight look- or maybe Daryl was imagining it, he mighta gone crazy or something'- before doing the dog equivalent of a long suffering sigh. It did a little hobble forwards and bopped his head into Beth's fingers, acting all the good dog he should be.

And it was real nice to see Beth smile all proper like, teeth an all as she petted Mutt like he were best in show or something. Daryl kinda stared, watching Mutt's hobbled movements and Beth's face as she crouched and blew raspberries by Mutt's nose. The rest of the group were lookin' too, interested because Daryl ain't brought back nothing living since he and Glenn found Bob. They were probably thinking what was the special occasion? Or that he were a softy or somethin'. 

"Where'd you find him?" Beth asked, lookin' up all big young eyes an all. "He ain't hurt is he?" she gestured to Mutt's stubby leg and Daryl shrugged a shoulder, ha ain't got a clue about Mutt's condition, ain't really thought to check.

"Probably not," he grunted and planted himself on the ground, ass cold. "Don't look ill."

He could feel Rick watching him and could hear the chat about how it weren't safe to have a pup in his head, could see that Rick were probably already plannin' on how to get rid of Mutt. Safety hazard to Lil Asskicker probably, Daryl shoulda thought about it more.

But Mutt liked it here, rubbed his ratty head against Beth's hand and didn't look totally dreadful and Daryl could feel his stomach sinkin'. It was a repeat of his childhood- he were gonna lose his pet again. Lose the lil shit with three legs and one working eye, and that fucking determined look when walkers were near. Daryl weren't good at losin' things, not really. It was something he was used to but not something he dealt with all that well. He tended to reside into himself a lil bit more, s'what Carol told him when they lost Andrea back on the farm.

Mutt looks up at him as Maggie moves, sits next to her sister and pets the matted fur on Mutt's ribcage. Daryl swung his crossbow over his shoulder and gave the dog a little nod, before turning to Rick. Rick who had that frown on his face, that look that only Shane had been able to fix and Daryl knows it's comin' and he goes on over to him and he accepts his fate. Mutt were a distraction, is all, danger to the group- the people who meant most to him- Daryl understood that, could learn to deal with that. 

"Where'd you pick it up?" Rick asks him, and he sounds tired, old. Like he does when Carl's been actin' up and he can't do nothin' to make him quit. Daryl feels young again, smaller, "the woods- somethin' pathetic sight."

Rick nods, and turns to look at Mutt and take in his sorry picture. Three legs, drooling and one eye was as blind as a bat- useless until walkers growl on up and then Mutt's a machine teeth an all ripping and killing and defending. "It ain't hurt?" he asks, "it ain't gonna hurt?" 

In truth Daryl ain't got a clue. He didn't know 'bout animals and how the shitstorm affected them. Mutt may get bit and go fuckin' savage but he hadn't yet, had got all bloody round the chops in walker brain and ain't turned yet. "Nah, he won't hurt."

Rick looks at the campfire and Daryl turns to look too, sees the group around Mutt and hears the group happy and he knows Rick does to. "If it gets bit that's your problem, Daryl."

Daryl was just happy that Mutt got to stay, happy that they had food tonight and happy that hey, they finally got somewhere safe to shack up at. He don't say it, though, just says, "yeah, man."

**Author's Note:**

> This was written because I love the idea of Daryl having a dog, and I wanted to write something for The Walking Dead fandom since forever, so here we go. 
> 
> (title from Up The Wolves by The Mountain Goats)


End file.
